Marianne's decapitated head stared back at the audience.
Charles held her down as if she could resist even without a body.
With the knife he used to dismember her, he cut into the ends of her lips. Like a violin bow, he handled the knife with care.
As if a miracle had taken place, the solitary piano no longer played alone. A violin accompanied it as he tore into her jaw, widening her sickly grin past her cheeks. Only when it reached her ears did he stop.
With erratic eyes, he opened her mouth before rigor mortis could set in and checked her teeth for cavities.
Lights flashed.
Nana nana nana
Nana nana na
Nana nana nana
Nana nana na
A choir of children rang out energetically through the radio as Charles sat by the lake at the run-down amusement park. Their joyous voices stood in contrast to The Photographer's solemn expression.
Like a cruel joke, the ceiling sprinklers had been opened.
